"In a couple of days? Is there an important task for me?" Erika couldn't help but press, his voice tinged with the excitement of his new power and a desperate eagerness to prove himself. With dual Marks upon him, he felt fundamentally altered, as if he finally held a lever that could move fate itself.
Wolfgang didn't break stride, leading him through the Sanctum's increasingly grand, yet increasingly deserted corridors, heading towards the structure known as the "Angel's Descent." As he walked, he explained in his characteristic, emotionless monotone:
"The Sanctum's energy supply has always been a… persistent issue." He stated it plainly, as if discussing a remote problem. "The Eternal Circuit Law is not omnipotent. Therefore, the Sanctum dispatches a considerable number of Clerics to 'convert' enclaves of heretical belief, to broaden the frontiers of faith—which is to say… broaden the scope of the energy harvest."
Erika listened silently. This was starkly different from the official narrative of "spreading divine grace." It was raw and practical.
"As for the 'Angel's Descent' ceremony in two days," Wolfgang continued, his tone still flat, yet making Erika's heart jump, "it was originally a sacred moment to welcome an 'Angel's' consciousness and prepare a suitable vessel for it. However, recently, we've been unable to find a sufficiently 'pure' physical shell capable of bearing such immense energy."
He glanced sideways at Erika, a look that seemed to say: you understand.
"So, this time, the ceremony will primarily serve as a large-scale energy replenishment. Coincidentally, the collective Marking for the novice Clerics will be held simultaneously. Utilizing the energy surge gathered by the ceremony is more efficient and saves resources."
Erika understood immediately. Collective Marking, unified "management"—it confirmed the implication in the Bishop's earlier words. And he, by receiving his Mark early, seemed to have stepped outside this "standard procedure."
"What you need to do is…" Wolfgang began, but was interrupted as a few neatly dressed children, playing in the Sanctum's outer precincts, dashed out near their path. Seeing Wolfgang's high-tier Cleric attire and insignia, and Erika following behind him, the faint glow of new Marks visible on his arms, their eyes filled with instant worship and longing.
"Wow! A Cleric!""So cool! I want to be a Cleric too!""Executing the God's will! Purging the heretics!"
The children chattered excitedly, their small faces alight with naïve fervor.
Wolfgang's step hitched. The hard set of his face seemed to soften for a fleeting moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He didn't offer the gentle, encouraging smile some Clerics might. He merely gave a slight, acknowledging nod, then gestured for Erika to keep moving, leaving the children's cheers behind them.
Once they were a distance away, Wolfgang resumed, though his tone seemed flatter than before. "The specific task details will be discussed once we arrive. You've just completed the Marking; your mental strength is depleted, and your body needs to adapt to the new energy channels. For today… I'll let you off the hook."
The statement felt abrupt, as if the children's cries had touched something in him, prompting this last-minute change to delay assigning the task.
They proceeded in silence, soon arriving before the magnificent structure known as the "Angel's Descent."
This was Erika's second time here. Last time, he had only seen it from afar—this strange, metallic bud-like building covered in energy conduits and sigils, feeling the heart-palpitating energy waves emanating from within. Now, he was about to enter it for the first time.
The heavy, gold-veined metal doors slid open without a sound. A wave of air washed over them—a mix of ozone, cold metal, and something else… an indescribable, heavy scent, as if saturated with countless prayers and condensed energy.
The interior was even more vast and bizarre than the exterior suggested.
A huge circular dome soared overhead, supported by a web of interwoven energy conduits. Within these conduits flowed a visible, liquid-gold torrent of colossal energy, producing a deep, constant roar. Directly beneath the dome was a seemingly bottomless vertical shaft. Its walls were smooth as glass, also covered in glowing sigils and conduits, the rim emanating an energy pressure that warned against approaching.
The entire space was dimly lit, the primary illumination coming from the energy-filled conduits and the glow from the shaft, casting everything in an ominous golden hue. The air thrummed with a powerful energy field, making Erika's new Marks vibrate faintly—a sensation of both oppression and a primal, instinctual craving.
Was this where the "Angel" descended? And also… the site for large-scale energy replenishment and collective Marking?
Standing at the entrance, stunned by the sight, Erika felt his curiosity about the task Wolfgang would assign him deepen, mingling unease with anticipation.
Wolfgang seemed in no rush to assign the task immediately. Instead, like a guide showing a new initiate the ropes, he led Erika on a slow walk through the grand, eerie interior. The low roar was omnipresent, as if the entire structure was a living, breathing energy leviathan.
They passed under archways formed by intersecting conduits, like giant rib bones, their footsteps echoing on the polished black stone floor that reflected their forms. The deeper they went, the more tangible the energy in the air became, feeling almost viscous. Erika could even sense the Marks on his arms autonomously, imperceptibly drawing in the ambient, thinly dispersed energy to adapt and grow.
Finally, they reached the innermost part of the structure.
Here, the dome seemed even higher, more profound. The most striking feature was a massive statue positioned at the very front, directly facing the great energy shaft.
The statue was carved from pure white marble. Bathed in the dim, golden energy light of the chamber, it seemed to emit a soft glow of its own. It depicted the form of a man, powerfully built, his arms outstretched to the sides as if in welcome, or an embrace of the entire world. The folds of his robes were carved with fluid, powerful strokes.
Yet, when Erika tried to make out the statue's face, he found he couldn't. The face seemed shrouded in an intangible mist, or perhaps the sculptor had deliberately blurred the features, leaving only a hazy, indistinct outline—divine yet unidentifiable. This "unseeable" quality wasn't due to poor light, but a strange phenomenon emanating from the statue itself, affecting perception.
Wolfgang stopped before the statue, looking up at the blurred visage. His voice, amidst the energy's roar, sounded distant, yet held an instinctive solemnity:
"This is a statue of our Lord. According to the scriptures, it was our Lord who descended into this world a millennium ago, during the Age of Ignorance, bestowing upon our ancestors the knowledge and power to wield energy, leading them out of darkness and strife."
His introduction was concise and standard, like a creed repeated countless times. But Erika sharply noticed that Wolfgang's eyes held none of a typical believer's fervent worship. Instead, it was more like he was examining an ancient, powerful… tool? Or perhaps, a fixed, unassailable cornerstone of reality.
Erika also gazed up at the obscured face, his heart filled with an ineffable feeling. Was this the source of all power? The supreme being revered by the Auric Creed? Why was its face so mysterious, forbidden to behold?
His thoughts were interrupted by faint, busy sounds around him. Around the statue, and throughout the wider space, numerous figures in grey acolyte robes were at work. They weren't Clerics, but seemed to be lower-tier brothers handling practical duties. They were carefully arranging objects—semi-transparent panels, seemingly made of crystal or some energy-infused material, etched with complex sigils. They slotted these panels into pre-set grooves in the floor or affixed them to specific nodes on the energy conduits, following a precise pattern and spacing.
As these panels were set in place, Erika could faintly sense the ever-present, somewhat frenetic energy fluctuations in the space being gradually constrained and combed, forming more stable, yet more "congealed" energy fields in specific areas.
"What are they…" Erika whispered.
Wolfgang glanced at the busy acolytes. "Setting up energy barriers. For the ceremony in two days."
He paused, as if explaining a basic fact:
"During the ceremony, the energy shaft will be fully activated. The guided energy surge will far exceed normal levels. These barriers serve two purposes: to prevent the immense energy from dissipating outward, causing unnecessary waste or… accidents; and to channel the energy more precisely towards designated areas, such as where the novice Clerics awaiting their collective Marking will be stationed."
Prevent energy dissipation… precise channeling…
Erika watched the gradually forming, transparent wall-like barriers, thoughtful. It sounded logical, yet for some reason, he felt this meticulous containment hid another purpose—a sense of completely isolating inside from outside, allowing nothing to leak out.
This "Angel's Descent" site, beneath its sacred and magnificent façade, seemed permeated with a sense of cold, calculated control.
Wolfgang's low voice cut through the shaft's deep roar with startling clarity, a metallic hardness to it that jerked Erika's attention from his observations of the environment and ceremony.
He turned to face Erika, his deep eyes no longer calm, but filled with a near-severe scrutiny. "I brought you here today, Erika, not for a tour or to satisfy your curiosity." He deliberately slowed his pace, ensuring each word landed with weight. "You need to understand clearly that the Marks on your arms are no longer merely symbols of power. They represent your identity, your faction, your inescapable responsibility. From this moment, you are a Cleric."
His gaze was sharp as a blade, seeming to dissect any residual naivety deep within Erika. "Discard all impractical fantasies, all the hesitation and mercy of the weak. In this position, any trace of childish thought could spell your utter ruin, destroying not only you, but everything you care about." His words carried a cruel prescience, as if he had witnessed countless predecessors fall due to "weakness."
Here, the hard lines of Wolfgang's face seemed to soften for a heartbeat. He let out a very faint, almost imperceptible sigh. The emotion within it was profoundly complex—heaviness, resignation, and even… a near-untraceable flicker of remembrance for something past.
He raised a hand as if to clap Erika's shoulder, but it hovered in the air before slowly dropping. His voice lowered, taking on a tone that felt incongruously mournful amidst the surrounding cold:
"Cherish these days, kid."
The words were cryptic, filled with ineffable meaning. Cherish what? The initial "freedom" of gaining power? Or… the last days of being… human?
Erika was left reeling by this stern warning and sudden emotional shift, his mind crowded with confusion and disquiet. He was about to speak when Wolfgang's head snapped up, his eyes shooting a lightning-like gaze toward the entrance.
Simultaneously, a vast, gentle yet unassailably authoritative presence flooded the great hall like an invisible tide, momentarily overwhelming the shaft's roar. All the working acolytes stopped and bowed their heads in reverence.
A figure, flanked by several attendant Clerics, entered at a measured pace.
He wore the robes of the highest authority in the Sanctum's branch, embroidered with golden sigils of the Law. His face was aged, but his eyes were like deep pools, calm yet seemingly capable of reflecting all the secrets of a person's heart. A faint, appropriately gentle smile graced his features, but beneath that mildness lay the bone-deep authority bred from long-held power and the right of life and death.
This was the highest leader of the Sanctum branch—Grand Cleric Hong Bo.
His arrival instantly froze the atmosphere in the "Angel's Descent" hall. Even the flowing energy seemed to grow sluggish.
Wolfgang instantly schooled all expression from his face, reverting to the hard, respectful subordinate. He gave a slight bow. "Your Eminence."
Hong Bo's eyes swept first over the preparation work, nodding in satisfaction. Then, his profound gaze settled on Erika standing beside Wolfgang—or more precisely, upon the newly formed Marks on his arms, which still emitted a faint energy glow.
His smile seemed to widen a fraction, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.